


(Less Than) A Thousand Miles

by purecamp



Category: RuPaul's Drag Race RPF
Genre: F/F, Oh my god they were zoommates, Quarantine, Zoom - Freeform, and they were zoommates, lockdown - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-16
Updated: 2020-05-16
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:41:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24220750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/purecamp/pseuds/purecamp
Summary: Alaska’s in lockdown, but she still has to work. That means Zoom calls with some woman from another company and oh shit, she’s captivating.
Relationships: Sharon Needles/Alaska Thunderfuck 5000
Comments: 3
Kudos: 36





	(Less Than) A Thousand Miles

The whole situation was absolutely fucking ridiculous and Alaska was going to sue Mother Earth for ever allowing something like this to happen.

So, these things happened. Diseases, outbreaks, viruses, whatever you wanted to call them. They were natural, they disrupted life, and then life moved on as normal. It wasn’t as if they hadn’t been here before. Then things got a little worse, and it was decided that everyone should become a bit of a shut-in until the whole thing blew over. Fine, that was fine. Alaska was quite looking forward to a good lie in, picking up a new hobby, or just enjoying some alone time away from the hustle and bustle of the workplace.

“This is Zoom,” Violet folded her arms over her chest as she gave the presentation. “This is how we’ll be continuing with our projects from home through the quarantine.”

Fan-fucking-tastic. As if it wasn’t embarrassing enough for Alaska’s boss to be significantly younger than everyone she was in charge of - nobody was quite sure if she was a rapidly successful ingenue or a trust fund baby with good intuition - but now, she wouldn’t even be getting a break?

There was a worldwide outbreak of a disease and Alaska still had to meet deadlines. And get up at 6am. And put real clothes on. In the middle of a pandemic.

It was even more annoying that she would be working from home, since her early start hours and new ‘home office’ meant that she wouldn’t have the cool morning air to wake her up from her zombified state, so caffeine was her only option. She had weeks and weeks of being stuck inside ahead of her, and instead of developing some kind of new skill or hobby, it seemed like the only thing she’d be developing was a caffeine addiction. Perfect.

Putting on makeup and business attire just to go and sit at the kitchen table felt so wrong. She had contemplated sitting on her sofa, but that felt too casual. Violet didn’t do casual, after all. Even her texts had the same effortlessly cold, uncaring tone to them.

Violet: Be ready for a 7.30am call. I will be briefing everyone and then you will connect individually with your collaborators. Do not miss it or you will be terminated from your project starting immediately.

It made sense for her to be that way. Violet was a kick-ass, headstrong, rising fashion designer and her work was unrivalled. She was making huge strides in her career and in the fast-paced fashion world daily, and it made sense to ride that wave for as long as it came.

Still. Violet was young, and she very much had a stick up her ass.

Alaska greeted her boss with a smile as the call started. She hardly paid attention to the briefing, knowing it didn’t really apply to her. Her official job title was Director of Social Marketing and Brand Communication - in other words, she was a social media manager. She made sure that all of her boss and coworkers’ efforts weren’t wasted, and got the appropriate coverage. In essence, she was pretty high up in the company, and undoubtedly important, so perhaps her hopes of some time off had always been a pipedream.

Sure, the world was ending, but capitalism stopped for no man.

Violet was her natural, stony self on their individual call, although somewhat more relaxed. “Ah. Alaska, I’m putting you in touch with one of the higher-ups from Gemini Magazine. They’re thinking of covering us or Bianca del fucking Rio, and I will literally kill myself if Bianca gets this issue. It’s not like the old bitch ever gives us anything new.” She rolled her eyes. “Thank you, by the way, for not taking this call in your bed or on your fucking sofa. I’ll definitely be having words with some of those morons in my employment.”

Alaska offered an absent smile, mostly thinking about how she’d dodged a massive bullet there. “Ha, of course. Okay, send me the contact and we’ll set up a call right away.”

“Perfect.”

Then Violet was gone, and Alaska’s urge to become ten years younger and suck her stomach in dissipated. Moments later, the information for the Gemini contact came through.

AT: Hi, I’m the representative for Violet Chachki. Is this Gemini magazine?

SN: Yes, that’s me. Are you ready to call? We should be speaking for about an hour.

AT: That’s fine.

Alaska didn’t really know what to expect when she clicked ‘accept call’ and waited to be connected. SN told her pretty much nothing about the person on the other end of the line. She ran through a mental rolodex of names - Stephen? Samuel? Simon? Sebastian?

It was none of those.

It was a woman.

It was an intimidatingly beautiful woman. Whose name started with S, but was not Stephen or Samuel or Simon or Sebastian.

Gemini was a big deal, and Alaska knew that. In fact, this was the biggest deal she’d ever been asked to settle before. There was a fat bonus awaiting Alaska’s bank account if she secured this and secured it well, and it would be even better if they decided to drop the idea of covering Bianca entirely. It turned out that the stereotype from all the movies was true; people who worked in prestigious magazines were physically, unbelievably gorgeous, impossibly well-dressed, and just… physiologically perfect.

Maybe that was a little bit dramatic. But the woman on the screen was nothing short of gorgeous.

There was no way her hair could be real, for one, so Alaska decided right off the bat it was a wig. It was platinum, unrealistically shiny, in perfect sculpted waves that seemed to both add volume and frame her face. The face in question, which Alaska was sure probably fit that stupid golden ratio bullshit that made all women feel like dogs, was pristinely made up in shades of grey, black and plum - plum being the colour of her plush, full lips. Her eyes were icy, fringed with perfectly curled lashes (again, had to be fake, but still, wow) and her outfit, at least from what she could see from the chest up, was an immaculately fitted black shirt with an indistinguishable white pattern on it, and a thin silver necklace with the pendant just off screen, unfairly tantalising Alaska with the desire to keep going further down and take in every inch of this woman.

She instantly made Alaska feel like shit. Then she remembered that her own clothes, whilst a little rumpled (but only where SN couldn’t see, thank god), were expensive and well-fitted thanks to Violet’s stickler policies, and she looked good too. As if good was enough to match her.

“Hi, I’m Sharon.”

Even her voice was nice. Rich, not necessarily deep, but soothing to listen to.

“Alaska.” She almost offered a handshake, and then remembered she was supposed to be practicing social distancing. And then belatedly remembered she was on a video call, and handshakes weren’t exactly possible.

“Nice to meet you, Alaska. So, I should let you know that Mx Gemini knows Bianca del Rio personally, and we’ve clashed a little in terms of our ideas - I think covering Ms Chachki would be more beneficial to our numbers, they’re not so sure. Would you be able to compile some recent features of yours that I can look through?”

Straight to business. Alaska cleared her throat and shook away her thoughts, not that there were many floating around in her head besides the meaningless awe at Sharon’s initial appearance. Luckily, she didn’t have to worry about her confidence slipping in the presence of someone she found attractive. This kind of work - the persuasion, the presentations, convincing openers and data-driven facts and compelling speeches - this was Alaska’s world. This was the reason Violet viewed her so highly, trusted her with such projects completely alone.

Alaska was fucking good at her job. Thankfully, it seemed like Sharon would be too.

“I can do that for you. I have our most recent issue here, we had a four page spread in The Act. I think I have the sales numbers somewhere here…”

The hour passed quickly. Most of it was just making plans for their future conversations, talking about setting up various interviews, looking more in depth at some of the figures, and so on. Every now and again one of them made a small joke just to keep things from being incredibly awkward - they were at work, but at home, talking to someone they’d never met before, which was basically the definition of awkward - and managed to cut some of the tension at the very least. Sharon had an interesting laugh, sort of cackly and infectious, and a very sharp wit.

Mostly, ignoring her whole phase of attraction, Alaska was glad to have a decent representative to work with. There had been times with other magazines when they had been totally incompetent (Derrick had been so dumb) or really annoying (Valentina was way too self-absorbed for an assistant) or arrogant assholes (Alaska didn’t even want to think about that Elizabeth girl, who she’d gone as far as to nickname Acid Betty).

A change was nice. Plus the eye-candy was pretty good too.

-

Their next call was the same. Polite, professional, punctual. A few appropriate jokes here and there. Sharon’s hair was tied up, so it was maybe real - then again, wigs could be styled, so maybe not. This time she seemed to be wearing some kind of burnt orange suit jacket. There were bat shaped earrings dangling from her ears, catching the sunlight every now and again and blinking.

-

Their third call lasted two hours instead of one. There were a lot of figures to go through. About halfway through, Sharon got up to make herself a coffee, and Alaska got to see the bottom half of her outfit (and her body, so kind of an added bonus if you looked at it in the most non-pervy way possible). It was a pair of dark red, or possibly pink, cigarette pants, matching with the well-fitted blazer she was wearing and high-necked white shirt.

She came back with a patterned mug (“Oh, is that King Friday? From Mr Rogers?” / “Sure is. Although I didn’t watch him all the time, I preferred my shows to have less of a moral compass.”) full of black coffee (“Don’t make that face! I don’t drink it for the taste, I drink it for the caffeine.”). Then she grinned at Alaska’s disgust - grinned. There was a tiny gap between her front teeth (“Ew, I just realised that was visible. Can’t wait to get veneers.”) which was kind of really adorable.

Alaska dared to tell a funny, ice-breaker type story about Acid Betty, and how impossible to work with she’d been. Sharon laughed at it, then Alaska laughed, then Sharon told her she had a pretty smile.

They carried on going through the data figures.

-

Ten calls in, Alaska had to apologise as a delivery guy came to the door. Sharon told her it was no bother. They had this unspoken mutual agreement to not include any of the non-professional small breaks in any of the minutes for the meetings, so it was fine.

It was Alaska’s Switch, that she’d ordered the moment she heard they might have to be quarantined in their apartments for a while. She would be damned before she let herself go insane with boredom for the sake of a couple hundred dollars.

“Is that a Switch? Oh, tell me you’re not dying to play Animal Crossing.”

Alaska laughed indignantly at Sharon’s tone. “What?! What’s wrong with Animal Crossing?”

Sharon rolled her eyes. “Ugh! Way too cutesy. Wouldn’t expect someone who works under a frigid fashion bitch to be into that kind of thing.”

A pretty fair assumption. Alaska chuckled and shook her head.

“Oh yeah? And how are you keeping yourself entertained in this lockdown, huh?”

Sharon pulled a face of faux embarrassment. “Not kidding, I am making my way through the entire Netflix horror category. And shitty murder or true crime documentaries.”

“And you’re judging me for Animal Crossing.”

Sharon laughed appreciatively. “Okay, fair. You got me. Equally as bad.

They were off-topic. Completely. But Sharon wasn’t pulling them back, so Alaska didn’t either.

-

“Pretty sure I have Mx Gemini convinced that you’re the better option for this issue, thank god. It would be career suicide to show the same four dresses of Bianca’s again,” Sharon opened the call without even a hello, just diving right in. She looked perfect and put-together as usual, but tired.

Alaska giggled as she stifled a yawn. “Didn’t get much sleep?”

“Oh my god, it’s impossible. How are you supposed to rest when your life is a perpetual rest? I’m going stir-crazy. I can’t watch another horror movie. I can’t even open Netflix anymore.”

“You can’t?”

A wry smile made its way onto Sharon’s face. “Listen what happens when I put Netflix on.”

She disappeared out of the frame for a few moments, presumably to grab the TV remote and set everything up. When she sat back down, she wore a knowledgeable grin.

“I can’t even begin to apologise for what you’re about to hear. Okay, volume up, and…”

The intro began to play, loud enough for Alaska to hear it, but the sound was mostly, if not entirely, drowned out by the horrific, eardrum-bursting YEEEOOOOWWWWWW that immediately followed. Sharon winced, immediately shut off the TV, and bent down to the ground. Alaska’s eyes widened.

“You have a cat!”

Sharon had a cat. She reappeared with the yowling, scratching monster cradled in her arms, an expression that Alaska could only describe as ‘motherly disgust’ plastered all over her face. She brandished him towards the camera, then quickly retracted her arms as he tried to make a break for it.

“Oh no you don’t, you little fleabag.” She hissed, squishing him against her. “Alaska, meet Cerrone. I didn’t choose him, he chose me. Fattest cat in the area.”

As if reacting to her words, Cerrone turned his head and sank his teeth into Sharon’s wrist. Alaska tried not to laugh - really, really tried - and then settled back in her chair, hysterical.

Sharon huffed and snatched her hand away. “Alright, fine! He’s not fat, he’s just fluffy. Morbidly fluffy.”

After his second attack, she shrugged. “I can’t win with you, bud! You were a bag of rags when you skulked into my place and you didn’t like me calling you that, either. Anyway, Alaska, meet my son.”

Alaska giggled. “Delighted to meet you, sir. It’s always good to have another associate on call.”

“Right!” Sharon agreed, a mixture of baffled and accepting at the weird turn their conversation had taken. “You’re assistant manager now, Mr Man. Cyclone. Snow cone. Cellphone. Ah good, you’re paying attention now. I guess I really don’t use your name enough. Sorry buddy.”

Shaking her head, Alaska just smiled. “I can’t believe you’re a cat mom. I’m learning so much everyday.”

-

“Morning, Lask! You look cheerful today. By the way, loving that eyeliner.”

Alaska grinned and winked. “Thanks, Shar! I’d tell you why I’m so happy, but you’d laugh at me.”

Sharon blew raspberries at her through the screen and giggled. Some strands of her hair were loose around her face, softening her look, and Alaska was overcome with an irresistible urge to tuck them behind her ears. It sounded stupid, since it was work, after all, but… these calls had been the only thing getting her through the quarantine. Sure, the alone time and the gaming and so on were nice… but the moments of human contact, the meetings that had started shifting to later in the day and lasting longer and consisting both of work and laughter all in one…

It was nice to hear someone’s voice, she supposed.

No.

It was nice to hear Sharon’s voice. And to see her face, and hear her laugh, and make her laugh.

“I would never laugh at you. We all have our shames, I’ll share if you do.”

Alaska eyed her suspiciously, but shrugged. “Fine. I caught an oarfish, and I got a new villager who’s completely adorable. They bring me joy.”

Sharon had been fully indoctrinated to the phenomenon of the game at this point; Alaska had to stifle a laugh at how she didn’t even question the lack of context in her statement, knowing she would just understand it. The expression on Sharon’s face made Alaska’s heart swell a little - maybe she was reading into it too much, but the pulling together of her eyebrows and the lopsided half smile seemed to suggest some kind of amused fondness.

Neither of them could deny that they were growing pretty close.

“See, I didn’t laugh! Maybe a little, but mine is so much worse.”

The afternoon sun was streaming through a window opposite Sharon. She was bathed in golden light (how typical, the sunshine arriving just when no one was allowed to go out and enjoy it), and her eyes sparkled. She looked mischievous.

“My niece keeps talking to me about this app that she’s obsessed with…”

Alaska’s eyes widened. “Oh no… no, tell me you didn’t…”

Sharon cringed back at herself, making Alaska scream-laugh. “I did! I did, I actually did. But the thing is, there’s this dumb fucking song on there and it’s stuck in my head 24/7. I’ve been hearing it in my brain since we started this call, it’s been three straight hours of this fifteen second song.”

“And the song is?”

“I can’t.” Sharon leaned closer to the camera, resting her head in her hands. “Because if I do, I’ll have to do the arm dance with it… I refuse to get up and throw it back as these fucking kids do, but I can’t resist the rest…”

Alaska folded her arms. “I’m waiting, Shar. You can’t tease me and not deliver.”

Oh my god. This was incredible. Sharon was doing a fucking Tiktok dance. Incredibly wrong, and out of time, and clunky. On Zoom. Life was so amazing.

“So… have you heard that Carole Baskin song…?”

-

Things started to get a little more casual. One time Alaska slept in late, apologetically texted Sharon (it wasn’t like they could just communicate through Zoom, right?) and rescheduled it for later. They decided to call in the early afternoon, getting their assignments out of the way before somehow slipping into casual, fun conversation.

It was only when Sharon reached out of frame to turn on a light that she realised it had suddenly become evening, and she needed to eat dinner.

They ate dinner together that night. When the call ended (at 9pm - neither of them had anything better to do), Sharon texted her a thanks for the company followed by two kisses.

Alaska typed her reply immediately and then hovered over the send button for a full sixty seconds.

Pleasure’s all mine. Xx

-

“Yours is so much better than mine.”

“I’ve been doing this way longer than you! Yours isn’t bad, it just needs work. Also… I hate the name.”

“You hate the name?! I love the name!”

“Needle City? That is physically disgusting.”

“I was inspired by New York.”

“Well, you’re disgusting. Oh, look! It’s my angel! Hello, sweetheart!”

A little pink figure bobbed on the edge of Alaska’s screen, smiling sweetly. Her avatar - small, blonde, dressed in a custom pinafore style dress she’d made herself, ran happily to meet her favourite villager and have a wholesome conversation.

Somewhere off to the side, a hell-raising psycho avatar with disturbingly grotesque face paint and a grunge outfit wildly paced from end to end of the island, an axe held aloft in her hand.

Sharon had caved to Alaska’s Animal Crossing rambles. However, she was somewhat of a… chaotic player.

“I want to catch some fucking butterflies!”

Alaska rolled her eyes. “You need your net for that, Noodles.”

“I know!” Sharon retorted. “But I don’t wanna keep them! I want to slice them and look at them under a microscope like a scientist. Fuck Blathers, I could do it better than him. He always insults my bugs.”

Not even Peanut could make Animal Crossing with Sharon seem wholesome. “I can’t even begin to tell you how disturbing that was to hear. Also, not how this works.”

“Don’t care. Tom Nook is a Tory crook and I would sooner put a hit out on him than give him any money.”

“So that’s why you only have one room still.”

“Yes. Ooh, who’s this little guy? I want to pick a fight with him.”

Dear god. There was going to be nothing left of Alaska’s little utopia (lovingly named Glamtronia) if Sharon’s destructive ways were anything to go off.

She shook her head and laughed. “Shar, that’s Bam. You also have Bam on your island.”

“Of course.” Sharon huffed, rolling her eyes at the camera before turning back to her game. “Why would I know their fuckin’ names? I don’t know anything about these anthromopormorphobic creatures. I only know Moscow… no, Roscoe. The horse one.”

“Struggled a bit with that word?”

“Shut up, thighs.”

Alaska glanced down and then up at her camera, and crossed her legs. It had been a slow, sort of casual day… they had been waiting on instructions from Mx Gemini and Violet, who took forever to get in touch and say they’d send it tomorrow, so Alaska was only half professionally dressed. Underneath her pressed white blouse, she wore her tiniest pair of lace-edged sleep shorts, opting for comfort. She didn’t quite realise that from all the shuffling she’d done to get comfortable on the sofa, her secret was exposed.

“Crap! Sorry.”

Sharon giggled. “Don’t be. Check this out.”

She lifted her leg, triumphantly exposing her own pale white skin. “See? We’re both getting lax, isn’t just you anymore.”

“Ever heard of the sun?” Alaska teased. She was rooting through her inventory, deciding to gift a couple of miscellaneous things that she didn’t really need to Sharon. Every gift had her suitably awed, which was pretty cute.

“I wish!” Sharon shot back. “I’d love to go outside, catch some sun, maybe buy some tanning lotion… oh wait. Non-essential item. Back to pasty it is.”

Alaska laughed. “They might make an exception for you. Pretty essential so that you don’t look dead.”

“What makes you think otherwise?” Sharon’s lips curved into an evil smirk. Her lipstick was a dark red, and she reminded Alaska of all the Disney villains she’d had crushes on in her adolescence.

They lapsed into a comfortable silence, making small remarks every now and then about the island or the villagers or any exciting things they stumbled across. Then, Alaska suddenly found herself gripped with the need to speak.

“By the way… it doesn’t matter how pale you are. I think you’re beautiful, and it suits you.”

Alaska examined Sharon’s reaction carefully. She was still looking at her game, and Alaska watched as her lips parted slightly, then shut again. Then she smiled, gently, tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, and looked up.

“Thanks, Lasky. And… same. To you.”

-

Things with Gemini magazine and Violet’s issue were making good headway. Alaska kept in touch with Violet, who seemed thrilled with her work, and soon enough their efforts had paid off - Bianca had been dropped entirely, and the remaining pages in the magazine previously dedicated to her would be given over to Violet.

That, of course, meant extra work for Alaska, in the form of collaborating with Sharon and putting her in touch with the right people. So, really, it didn’t mean any extra work at all.

The feature was going to contain three interviews as well as the designs themselves - one with Violet herself, one with a close member of her elite team (Alaska wasn’t quite sure what they did. Sketched? Swatched? Sewed?) and one with none other than the Director of Social Marketing and Brand Communication, Alaska. She suspected that Sharon had thrown that one in as a ‘fun behind the scenes peek’, which was yet another excuse to talk shit with her.

Their usual greeting, which lasted for about five minutes before they could actually force themselves to get some work done, had just finished when her phone rang. It was on silent, of course - she was still working, after all, even if it was just Sharon - but face up, just so she didn’t miss anything. She frowned slightly at the caller-ID, and quickly motioned to Sharon that she wouldn’t be long.

“Hey, mom. What’s going on? I’m working.”

“I’m sorry honey, I can call back?”

“No, it’s okay. Just… not too long, yeah?”

“Of course. I just need to talk to you about something.”

Her mom was true to her promise; hardly four minutes later, the conversation was over. Alaska just stared at her phone, expecting everything to hit her all at once and instead finding herself swathed in guilt-inducing numbness. Safely contained in her laptop screen as always, Sharon watched her, eyebrows knitted in concern.

“Are you okay?”

Alaska blinked, and grounded herself. She was fine. Shamefully fine. The kind of fine where she knew she shouldn’t be fine, but somehow was anyway. It seemed too distant to be real, and even if it was, it wasn’t really like it was happening.

“My, uh… My grandpa has it. He’s sick.”

As well-intentioned as it was, Sharon’s sympathy immediately made her feel worse about her own apathy. “God, I’m so sorry. That’s so scary.”

She was right. It was scary. The reality of it hadn’t settled in Alaska’s mind, but it definitely was scary. She needed a hug - from Sharon, from her mom, from her grandpa - and couldn’t take comfort in any of them.

“I wish I lived closer to him. I’d go help, drop things off for him, whatever he needs… but he lives at the other end of the city, by that old theatre. I miss him so much. I hope he’s being taken care of.”

Sharon smiled forlornly. “I know how you feel,” She paused, then seemed to snap back to life. “Hey. Take this morning off, I figured it might be better for you to call your family and spend some time with them than doing work with me. I can run some errands in the meantime. And…” She trailed off. “No, never mind.”

“No, tell me.” Alaska probed gently. “I want to hear what you have to say.”

For the first time since they’d started talking, Alaska swore she could see Sharon faltering. “I… I thought you might want a distraction, later. So if you want to maybe… eat dinner together on call, maybe watch a movie… I saw there’s an app you can do it on… then I’d be available for that.”

Alaska waited for the explosive fireworks, the tugging in her heart, the feeling of everything clicking into place. It never came; instead, a pleasant warmth slowly sank into her, not noticeable but enough to lift her mood. There was no big spectacle or moment of realisation. It was just nice. It was comfortable.

“I’d like that.”

The day passed in a blur of phone calls. Cousins called up to reminisce about their time as children, aunts and uncles enquired about work and dating, her siblings facetimed to talk about how they were all coping. Usually, Alaska tried to avoid the massive family functions, finding it hard to abide all the prodding and questioning and forced joy, but for the first time in a long time, it felt genuinely refreshing to catch up with everyone. Ironically, she felt the sense of community and camaraderie stronger than ever as she sat holed up in her apartment alone.

By the time the evening came, she had given up on being properly dressed and presentable. Her hair was pulled back into a long ponytail - she really needed a haircut when this was all over - and she’d decided to forgo normal clothes and thrown on her pyjamas again.

She hadn’t quite expected Sharon to do the same, and answering a call to find her with her hair scraped into a bun and her own pyjamas - covered in pumpkins and bats - immediately visible caught Alaska way off guard. Her grin was so endearing that for a moment, she just looked.

“So! What are you making, chef 1?” Sharon giggled. Her laptop was obviously set up on a kitchen counter of some sort, and she moved away from it towards the oven, giving Alaska full view of her kitchen and herself, in the skimpy shorts and tank. At this point, it wasn’t like they hadn’t seen the other person before, but there was an intriguingly new kind of intimacy that came with seeing her at home, not dressed for work, doing a mundane household task. Alaska quite liked it.

“Just some kind of pasta, haven’t decided. Might just wing it and see what happens.” She joked back.

Sharon’s face lit up. “Me too! Same wavelength, how cool.”

“The coolest.” Alaska teased her, giggling when Sharon stuck her tongue out. Then, as soon as she noticed a little bit of fluff edging its way into the frame, she started cooing. “Baby boy!”

“Oh no, not you. Get out of here, fatty! I’ll feed you in a minute!” Sharon yelled, nudging Cerrone with her foot. “God, you weigh a ton. Fine, I’ll fill your bowl now. Asshole cat.”

Alaska shrugged and faux-gasped. “Be nice to him, he’s your baby!”

“He’s the bane of my life.”

“He’s the only man I respect.”

“He’s also a moron.”

“Touché.”

Sharon reached off camera, then grinned at Alaska and drew closer. “So… is wine while cooking a bad idea?”

Alaska considered it. “I would say yes.”

“Are you gonna join me anyway and engage in a pasta disaster?”

“…Yes.”

Two glasses of wine for Sharon and one glass of wine for Alaska later, they managed to each salvage a decent, somewhat edible pasta-based meal to eat together. Through Zoom. The absurdity of it all was not lost on Alaska, but again, the strange distant intimacy of it was nice.

They connected on Netflix Party, deciding between them on Burlesque, and settled to watch. Sharon had a glass of red wine in her hand and Cerrone curled up in her lap, her free hand stroking him, and as Alaska finished her white wine, she was entranced by it. She was pulled away only from the quiet buzzing of her phone, incoming with a new picture text from her mom.

Mom: Grandpa today with his shopping delivery. A Kind samaritan came and brought him all these goodies! Xx

“Huh…” Alaska murmured to herself, then read the text when she realised she’d caught Sharon’s attention. “That’s so nice, right?”

Sharon hummed her agreement, a small smile on her face. Alaska wasn’t quite sure how she knew, but she knew straight away.

“Did you…?”

“Yeah.” She blushed, almost as if she was embarrassed. “I realized when you mentioned the theatre that I know your grandpa, I recognised his last name as the same as yours. I used to work in that theatre, and he would come in every Sunday to see whatever show was on, and then I would see him cross the street and go home to that little house with the red door. I only live ten minutes away, I figured he might need some groceries and stuff.”

Alaska’s heart ached. It ached because throughout the day, she had grown more and more worried about her family as the reality sunk in. It ached because Sharon had been so kind, so needlessly sweet and silent about her good deed. It ached because Alaska was stuck inside and the world seemed to have shut down and they were all connecting through screens and through art and Alaska knew, knew if they were in the same room together, that this would be the moment she leaned in to kiss her for the first time.

Alaska’s heart ached because she wanted to kiss someone who was behind a screen, not beside her, and it wasn’t fair.

-

“Being in lockdown is officially the worst.”

“And you’re just now realising that?”

“No, Lasky! I’m just now getting into baking which means I’m just now getting into eating what I made.”

“Guess it really is a COVID-19, huh?”

“Did you just… did you just freshman 15 me?! With a bigger number?!” Sharon pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose, her mouth agape. (She had taken to wearing glasses rather than contacts, explaining that she was sick of using them - and Alaska thought she looked adorable.)

“Maybe we should workout together. There’s gotta be home workout tips somewhere.” Alaska giggled at Sharon’s outrage. “You’re fine, by the way, stop being a drama queen and do some crunches.”

“Fuck you.”

“You wish you could.” Alaska winked.

-

It turned out that home workouts were kind of fun. The news kept saying that keeping a regular structure to the day would help everyone keep sane, so she tried writing down her schedule, and realised it was already pretty solid.

8am start - later than she was meant to, but still early enough that she felt productive. She didn’t bother to get fully dressed, only making an exception if she was meeting with Violet or Mx Gemini, and started a Zoom call. She would eat breakfast with Sharon as they ran through the outline of the meeting, then get to work for a few hours.

By 11am, they were pretty much done. Their desperate need to chat and laugh and goof around made for some incredible work efficiency, something that had them both praised from their bosses. Alaska would play Animal Crossing and coax Sharon to join her, who had still made very little progress on her island, but at the very least had built a bridge.

At 1pm, they shared lunch. They remained on call as they made it, ate it, and flirted intermittently between conversation. An hour or so later, whenever they felt ready, they’d follow some dumb online workout and laugh at each other until they were done, which felt surprisingly enriching.

The call would have to end shortly after the workout whilst they showered, but soon enough, in fresh clothes or pyjamas with damp or blow-dried hair, they were back on call.

Somewhere in the mid-afternoon, they’d do a little more work, just to remind themselves that the world hadn’t ended and capitalism still prevailed.

When 7pm came, they’d watched one another make dinner on call, and sat together to eat. By this point, the laptop had moved all around the house, from the table when working, the kitchen when cooking, and then lastly to the sofa as they sat and ate, watched TV, and pretended to clink their glasses together. Sharon was more of a drinker than Alaska, but they both enjoyed whatever beverage they had available, alcoholic or not.

In the late evening, the call would end again. Alaska would catch up with family, Sharon would run errands, and they texted the entire time. Alaska liked to send memes (mostly to make Sharon laugh and keep her up to date, since her taste in memes was painfully boomer humour), and Sharon made the most ridiculous Paul Lynde style puns that would have Alaska genuinely throwing her phone onto her bed and groaning.

They texted into the night. When Alaska went to sleep, Sharon’s goodnight texts were the last thing she’d see.

Then the cycle would repeat.

-

Sometimes Alaska forgot Sharon was a colleague.

Sharon was so much more than a colleague.

-

“My grandpa seems to be recovering. He’s doing really well.”

“I’m so happy to hear that. Send him my love.”

“Of course! Thank you so much for helping me through this.”

“You know I’d do anything for you.”

“Yeah. I do. And I hope you know I’d do the same.”

“I do.”

-

Everything felt like the first time all over again.

The sunshine hitting Alaska’s skin, the fresh air, the breeze blowing back her hair. Just standing outside, in the sun, for no purpose other than simply being there, felt like a luxury. Everything was so bright, so beautiful, and it could be enjoyed. She could pick flowers, wander through parks, hug her mom.

It was slow going. The reopening of… well, the entire world, hadn’t been taken lightly. Alaska adhered to all the rules, desperate to never have to be quarantined inside again, and watched as their freedoms slowly but surely returned. Something as simple as meeting friends in a café could put a smile on her face lasting the entire day.

But there were other benefits too.

Alaska remembered when the main establishments started to reopen again, once things were safe. The shops, the fast food places, the restaurants, opening their doors to eagerly awaiting (read: frenzied) members of the public. For the first month, it was impossible to get a reservation anywhere. Things started to calm down, thankfully, not much later.

The sun really was amazing. Alaska was wearing a sundress, proper clothing that didn’t fall into the category of business professional or pyjamas, and it felt brilliant. She’d even curled her hair, which she absent-mindedly played with as she waited. Truthfully, she never wanted to look at her phone again after how much she’d used it in the lockdown, and was completely fine with just bouncing her curls until her anxiety settled.

Then, a few feet away, a woman started approaching. She had platinum hair, pulled into an unreasonably attractive high ponytail, and she wore ripped black jeans, a leather jacket, and the most enchanting smile Alaska had ever seen. In her arms, she held a magazine, which she handed to Alaska.

“Check it out. Violet Chachki.” She shrugged. “No big deal, but I almost couldn’t get my hands on this, because it’s been flying off the shelves. Sales of this issue are dominating the whole board.”

“And that means?” Alaska replied, flicking through the pages proudly.

“It means you did good.”

Sharon’s eyes were startlingly blue in real life. She was also taller than Alaska had expected, though not tall enough to beat her own height. Alaska’s stomach felt like it had fallen all the way to the floor, and she prayed she wasn’t going to lose her nerve. Not now, not at a time like this.

“By the way, you should get a new laptop.” At Alaska’s puzzled expression, Sharon laughed. It was really nice to hear her cackle in real time. “Yours doesn’t do you justice. You are gorgeous.”

She was going to lose her nerve. There were so many funny things she could say in response to her flirting and so many quips that were going to be wasted because of her stupid brain not connecting to her mouth, so many jokes about social distancing and god Sharon looked really pretty and she really had no other choice other than placing her hand on the back of Sharon’s neck and pulling her in for the longest awaited kiss of her entire life.

The butterflies in her stomach dissipated immediately. It was nothing remarkable, save for the fact that she was kissing the most remarkable woman she’d ever met and it felt so right to be held in her arms, finally.

“You made the first move,” Sharon’s voice was breathless, Alaska still holding her inches away from her face. Her hands had made their way around Alaska’s waist, where she relayed the same intention as Alaska of never letting go. “Can’t say I expected that.”

Alaska giggled. “You can pay for lunch if that makes you feel better.”

“It doesn’t.” Sharon promised, her eyes crinkled with happiness. “Come on. I’ll split it 50/50 and then we can… I don’t know, drive up to the nearest beach and spend the day there. I’d normally suggest going back to my apartment, but I literally don’t ever wanna stay in again.”

“Sounds perfect.” Alaska stole a quick kiss before breaking apart. “Okay, lunch, shopping to get bikinis because fuck going back to our apartments, then buy some cheap dresses and go drinking and partying until three am?”

Sharon’s gaze softened. “Fuck. You’re my dream girl. I’m in, let’s go.”


End file.
